


Comfort zone

by HoshisamaValmor (HannibalCatharsis)



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Character Study, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24323269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalCatharsis/pseuds/HoshisamaValmor
Summary: A little 'unpretentious' self-analysis of Palermo.
Kudos: 9





	Comfort zone

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Zona de conforto](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24323230) by [HoshisamaValmor (HannibalCatharsis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalCatharsis/pseuds/HoshisamaValmor). 



So. A little unpretentious self-analysis.

Oh but of course. He had fallen so low he no longer even knew the meaning of words. _'Unpretentious'_?

Martín would laugh at himself if it wasn't so depressing. As much as he might be used to the piece of shit he was, sometimes he could no longer laugh at it. The joke stops being funny when it's repeated so many times.

He was locked in the Bank of Spain - his goal for so much time - and he only managed to fuck everything up. The plan had to be followed to the letter, but it obviously included people, and those were variables Martín had to know and deal with whether he liked it or not, in the same way he dealt with everything else. Objectively. Ruthlessly.

His objectivety and ruthlessness had got Nairobi killed.

Martín needn't have taught Gandía how to free himself from the handcuffs - the man knew it for sure. He hadn't been Special Ops for six years to learn how to make cute little braids. But Martín was the one that went there to incite him, knowing _perfectly_ well whom he was stirring up, all to try and have what he wanted. And what was that, exactly? Control. Control over himsef and over the plan and over everyone else, because that was how it had to be, how he was used it to be.

There was nothing unpretentious in his compulsion for control. It was just selfishness. It was just his own escape from himself, his coping, and as this whole thing clearly showed, his attempts of escaping his own misery instead only worked to confirm it.

Now, it seems like not even his familiar pattern of self-destruction was under his power. One less thing, or rather, one more thing he no longer controlled. He could almost hear Sergio's voice, all that cleverness and recrimination, showcasing with evidence just how right he had been about Martín once again. Martín wasn't even objective, he was just ruthless and impulsive, and impulsiveness hindered his intelligence. All this derailed because Martín wanted to be the leader again, to reclaim power over something, and not only he hadn't accomplished that, _he_ had destabilized the whole gang and the whole plan. He couldn't even control his own self-destruction anymore and use it as his focus. Now, he had no escape from himself.

A piece of shit who could only destroy everything and be left behind.

Andrés would have never sabotaged his own plan. He'd have found a way to return to power, yes, but he wouldn't have done anything like Martín. Martín destroyed because he didn't know how to do anything else. What a fucking great engineer he was, huh.

And Nairobi. He had never liked the woman for several reasons, many of which were completely unrelated to her as a person, but of course he didn't want her to die. She wasn't supposed to. He didn't like her, but he could acknowledge the importance she had in the heist, and above all, how important she was for everyone inside. She was the one that had the respect of those she led, even when making mistakes, even when being insufferable. What Martín had tried to forceably take back from Tokyo, Nairobi had earned by her own merit, because she hadn't asked for any power and didn't need it to feel good.

Now she was dead by Martín's actions, and caused an immeasurable pain to everyone, specially Helsinki.

Martín didn't like liking Helsinki. He didn't want to. He didn't want not having that control, didn't want to once again deal with all that, but yet again, his attempt at escaping it just proved how shitty and miserable he was. Hearing t _hat_ said outloud had made him hate her. Goddamn Nairobi.

Martín was tired of trying to come up with excuses for himself. And the abhorent idea of gathering courage to give them to others seemed equally unecessary. Sometimes, it was just too tiresome to be used to so much shit you are just unable to do or feel anything else.

...fuck, what a dumbass.

.

the end

.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. obvious disclaimer but I don't own anything in La Casa de Papel.


End file.
